Loren Singer - a necessary lie
by fictionalmike
Summary: We all know the story of Loren Singer's tragic "swim" in the Potomac in January 2003 and her discovery months later. What if this was part of a Webb-inspired CIA ruse, serving a higher purpose? How will Harm react when the truth is revealed some years later? COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1 - a necessary lie

**Loren Singer - a necessary lie, Chapter 1 - "A body found: a lie started". **

**A/N: AU. **This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. **Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.**

**A/N: AU: **"_they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself_". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N. Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome; I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful - and welcomed.

**A/N: AU: **Just a twist on "ice Queen" and "Meltdown" from 2003. What if the whole "_Loren Singer swim_" scenario was part of a bigger plot involving "another Government agency"? Just an initial bit of free-writing fluff to gauge the reaction from the readership.

**A/N: **Allusion to canon: "Ice Queen" (S08Ep20), "Meltdown" (S08Ep21)

**A/N: **Publication date: 22-Aug-2019.

**Characters from FFNET - L Singer: D Mallard; C Webb; H Rabb jr**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Chapter 01 of "Loren Singer - a necessary lie"**

**Friday 3rd January 2003 – 16:45hrs EST**

**JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA**

Admiral Chegwidden reviewed the file and smiled at Lt Loren Singer over his glasses.

"Good luck with your maternity leave and please inform Tiner once you have your address sorted."

"Aye-aye sir and thanks for your support."

"OK Lieutenant, dismissed."

Loren Singer braced for the regulation two seconds before turning and leaving the Admiral's lair. She smiled to herself as she walked past Tiner's desk; she was going to miss this place, with its intrigues, small-minded people with their special-interest worries and the legal cases which had exercised her since she had been posted in, back in November of 1999.

She briefly wondered whether the heeled shoes were the best footwear for her next actions, but the time spent with Harmon Rabb had eaten into her contingency time and she had already packed away the loose items from her office the previous day. She sighed: sometimes, that man's obsession over her baby had been a real pain in the...….

She picked up the last of her possessions and headed for the car park, silently sliding out of JAG HQ for the last time in a while. The next part of her mission beckoned; in fairness, she had been surprised by how much the pregnancy had affected her energy levels. Her balance had also been affected; these heels were really not a good idea, but time was pressing and the timing of the mission was crucial on this snowy January evening.

She *had* to make the meeting, to maintain the mission, no matter how much she wanted to be relaxing in her apartment and anticipating the arrival of her daughter in May.

But that was the mission - and the mission came first.

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Tuesday 22nd April 2003, 16:37hrs EST**

**Autopsy bay, Basement, NCIS HQ, Washington DC**

"Autopsy".

"Hello; is that Dr Mallard?"

"Speaking".

"Hello Dr Mallard; my name is Clayton Webb, special assistant to the undersecretary of state. I believe that you worked alongside my father back in the jungle."

"Yes indeed; he always spoke highly of you Clayton, although it was decades ago. I understand that you followed him into the family "firm". So how may I help Neville Webb's son after all these years?"

"Well; as you have spotted despite the job title, I followed my father and mother into the Agency - and that is the reason for my call today."

"Ducky" Mallard sighed; whenever "spooks" broke cover, there was usually pain involved for someone - and never (usually) the spooks!

"Go on, what's the scam today?"

Webb chose to ignore the dig – in all honesty, Ducky's response was mild compared to the usual derision from Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie. His nose still twitched whenever Admiral Chegwidden's name was mentioned!

"OK, in around one hour you will receive a sample by courier. It needs to be substituted as the DNA sample which you will submit to the Armed Forces DNA Registry to identify the deceased, pregnant, blonde female JAG officer who is currently lying on your table in autopsy."

"Hmm, this is most irregular; so tell me, dear Clayton, what ID will come back from this sample?"

"It will confirm that the recovered body in your morgue is that of JAG Lt Loren Marie Singer."

"Hmm - and the real Lt Singer?"

"...is recovering from giving birth to her daughter yesterday, then will continue her deep-cover identity as part of a long-running Agency operation vital to the security of this nation."

Webb's voice dropped a half-octave: "Doctor Mallard - we need your help."

"Very well, but only in exchange for an honest answer to my next question. Who will identify the lady on my morgue truthfully and will she eventually be laid to rest under her true name?"

"Yes Doctor Mallard, absolutely; but for now, this is a necessary lie."

Mallard began his autopsy on the badly-decomposed body which lay on the gurney. She had clearly been frozen until recently, but the carrion birds had stripped away the flesh which had been exposed above the ice. The US Navy uniform stretched around her body gave a very good impression that a dead foetus was lying within her mother. Both of the bodies would, of course, be treated with respect.

Looking at her arms, Mallard recognised the signs of faded needle tracks. No way was this a serving Naval officer. Indeed, were it not for the pregnancy, the CIA could have been responsible for plucking a dead junkie off a street somewhere. He sighed, picking up his scalpel to begin the detailed examination.

Within ten minutes, he knew the game. Her hair had been styled into a military-compliant length and style but had been coloured – it was evident that she was not a natural blonde. Her fingernails had been supplemented with false nails – very good ones, but masking real nails which had not been cared for as a professional lawyer would have protected - and taken pride in - her appearance.

Her feet were one size larger than those recorded for Lt Loren Singer and somehow Ducky doubted that the real Lt Loren Singer would have faced the world with pierced nipples.

Mallard stood back and summarised his evidence.

This had all the hallmarks of a re-modelled dead junkie, dressed up to pass a cursory inspection and to provide a distraction from the whereabouts of the real Lt Loren Singer, latterly of the USN JAG Corps.

Reluctantly, he prepared two files; one in the persona of "Lt Loren Singer" which he filled up with the details from the corpse. He vaguely recognised the CIA operative who was escorted into his lab by the NCIS security detail. He signed for the package and made the fateful exchange into the ID bag which would be sent off to the Armed Forces DNA registry.

Samples of the real body were filed away under "Janine Doe" for now. He prepared to bury her deep, pending the day when "part two" of the scheme could be put into effect.

**Damn the CIA and their spook games!**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Monday 14th February 2005, 10:38hrs EST**

**Office of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**JAG HQ Falls Church VA**

"Commander Rabb, the General would like to see you at your earliest convenience please."

"OK Jenn, I am on my way".

Since his return to JAG in October 2003, Harm had kept his head down and had, once more, attained the status of senior attorney in Falls Church. The arrival of the new JAG had given him opportunities to knuckle down and expunge the bad feeling of previous escapades.

"Come in, Commander."

As he walked into General Cresswell's office, Harm became vaguely aware, in passing, of a dark-blonde-haired lady sitting in one of the Admiral's wing-back chairs. A tan briefcase was grounded on the carpet alongside. She was dressed in civilian attire - an expensive-looking wine-coloured skirt-suit which complimented her hair and the red silk scarf tied at her throat.

He barely gave her a second glance until, as he stood in front of the Generals' desk, a whiff of a long-familiar perfume caught his nostrils.

He hadn't smelt that scent since a bad-tempered, irritable conversation in Benzingers on a cold January night some two years earlier, when he was arguing with a spiky, shrewish, beer-swilling - and quite-pregnant - fellow JAG officer called...….

"Loren Singer!"

She stood, turning to face him, slightly taller than he remembered in non-regulation spiked heels which complimented the colours of her civilian suit. The dark-blonde hair colouring, the long bobbed hairstyle and the rimless spectacles were a major distraction, but the unusual warmth of her smile gave away the fact that there was a different personality at play today, two years on from their last meeting, which had (apparently) been rapidly followed by her mystery dive into the icy waters of the Potomac.

She held her hand out in greeting, displaying immaculately shaped and painted fingernails as she continued to smile warmly:

**"Hello Harm."**

**** END of "Loren Singer - a necessary lie" - Ch 01 – "A body found: a lie started"**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Next Chapter - ? Depends on reactions/reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Out of the shadows

**Loren Singer - a necessary lie, Chapter 2 - "Out of the shadows". **

**A/N: AU. **This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. **Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.**

**A/N: AU: **"_they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself_". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N. Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome; I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful - and welcomed.

**A/N: **Allusion to canon: "Washington Holiday" S02Ep09 (Feb 1997), Also "Redemption" S07Ep06 for Lt Maat (30-Oct-2001)

**A/N: **Publication date: 27-Aug-2019. Then minor cultural dialogue changes 03/Sep/19 following helpful anonymous review.

**Characters from FFNET - L Singer: D Mallard; C Webb; H Rabb jr**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Chapter 02: "Out of the shadows"**

**Monday 14th February 2005, 10:38hrs EST**

**Office of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**JAG HQ Falls Church VA**

"Commander Rabb, the General would like to see you at your earliest convenience please."

"OK Jenn, I am on my way".

Since his return to JAG in October 2003, Harm had kept his head down, worked hard and had, once more, attained the status of senior attorney in Falls Church. The arrival of the new JAG had given him opportunities to knuckle down and expunge the bad feeling of previous escapades.

"Come in, Commander."

As he walked into General Cresswell's office, Harm became vaguely aware, in passing, of a dark-blonde-haired lady sitting in one of the Admiral's wing-back chairs. A tan briefcase was grounded on the carpet alongside. She was dressed in civilian attire - an expensive-looking wine-coloured skirt-suit which complimented her hair and the red silk scarf tied at her throat.

He barely gave her a second glance until, as he stood in front of the Generals' desk, a whiff of a long-familiar perfume caught his nostrils.

He hadn't smelt that scent since a bad-tempered, irritable conversation in Benzingers on a cold January night some two years earlier, when he was arguing with a spiky, shrewish, beer-swilling - and quite-pregnant - fellow JAG officer called...….

"Loren Singer!"

She stood, turning to face him, slightly taller than he remembered in non-regulation spiked heels which complimented the colours of her civilian suit. The dark-blonde hair colouring, the long bobbed hairstyle and the rimless spectacles were a major distraction, but the unusual warmth of her smile was the clincher. It gave away the fact that there was a different personality at play today, two years on from their last meeting, which had (apparently) been rapidly followed by her mystery dive into the icy waters of the Potomac.

She held her hand out in greeting, displaying immaculately shaped and painted fingernails as she continued to smile warmly:

**"Hello Harm."**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Monday 14th February 2005, 10:44hrs EST**

**Office of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**JAG HQ Falls Church VA**

Harm gulped as he took her hand. The last time he had seen her, early in January of 2003, their exchange of words had been harsh and unfeeling and confrontational and unhelpful and he had felt bad, as "an officer and a gentleman" for his words.

He had been obsessed about the parentage of her baby, she had apparently been dis-interested in his obsession and had been seemingly happy to sip a beer in front of him before storming out and heading for the car park.

Two years had seen a lot of water flow "under the bridge". He had gone through the experiences of the shambolic Clayton Webb/Sarah Mackenzie CIA mission to Paraguay (rescuing "his" Sarah by slaughtering the terrorists), whilst she had clearly given birth, had *not* drowned in the Potomac and was clearly comfortable in her position today, sitting in the General's office in Falls Church JAG HQ.

"Well, you are looking good Harm, and I understand that you are back in JAG and well-regarded once more". She smiled to Cresswell, who nodded, fascinated by the interplay between these two characters: one of whom he had inherited with a huge set of warning stickers in the personnel file from AJ Chegwidden, one whose exploits were legion and legendary. There were rumours of confused parentage, Russian relatives of in-laws, allegations of murder….

He was looking forward to what came next: Dora would love to hear the scuttlebutt tonight!

Cresswell decided to sit down and watch, reaching carefully for the bottle of aspirin in his top drawer. He had never "self-medicated" before during his long USMC career, but Chegwidden's final note ("_if Rabb is involved, consider using analgesia – ask Coates for dosage data_") had been well-received.

The General held back, as Harm caught up with the conversation.

"Yes indeed Loren, via some overseas exploits and a bit of crop-dusting." Harm could contain his curiosity no longer. "Loren, it is wonderful to see you but what…?"

Cresswell stepped in to shut down the line of questioning.

"Commander Rabb, the former Lt Singer is here, with official blessing and our Government's sanction, to close down a long-running CIA programme and to ask, specifically, for time with you – which I have, of course, been pleased to grant. I have a meeting with my yeoman, so whilst PO Coates and I get that meeting underway in her cupboard ante-room, you two are free to use my palatial surroundings."

His well-meant sarcasm sailed straight over their heads, but the two attorneys were clearly focussing on each other as they caught up after more than two years of "radio silence".

Picking up two files, the General strode out of the door through which Harm had recently arrived, in advance of his surprise of the decade.

"Shall we sit, Harm – these heels are killing me" Loren pleaded. He nodded, happy to get close to eye-level with this intriguing woman who had, three years earlier, captivated his half-brother Sergei.

They sat in the wing chairs, facing each other.

Harm looked closely at Loren's face. He was certain: yes, it definitely *was* her, but there was a warmth in the lines around the eyes and a definite sign of laughter lines around the mouth.

This was a different persona; so how had she maintained that act of a shrewish, spiky, spiteful personality whilst hiding a genuinely, realistically warm, friendly woman beneath the surface?

"You're CIA!" The realisation hit him like a baseball bat out of the blue.

"Well-realised, Commander; in fact, I have been since I was recruited out of law school alongside Catherine Marston."

Harm frowned; Loren looked at his reaction then laughed, as she explained.

"Sorry, you knew her as Catherine Gale; she is now back full-time after her maternity leave and honeymoon last month. We shared briefing spaces at one time and she told me about the lovely offer which you made to give her an instant family. You know Harm, she was always grateful to you for that offer, but you'll be aware of her rationale for turning you down."

Harm's head slumped slightly as he recalled the failure of his bid to set up "home" with the erstwhile Catherine Gale, despite the fillip that their "wedding" by Bud Roberts had boosted the spirits of Catherine's mother.

No, domestic tranquillity with Catherine "Gale" had clearly not been meant to be, with the result that he was now in his 42nd year, still single and without children. His time supporting Mattie whilst her father recovered from his addiction to the bottle had been a very-rewarding period in his life, but it was just that – a temporary arrangement whilst Tom Johnson had recovered his equilibrium and his sobriety, before Mattie Grace was able to rejoin him and help him stay sober and to pick up the reins of responsibility once more as her father.

Loren leaned across and patted him on the arm. "Hey, all is not lost; that offer to Catherine, along with your obsessive desire to look after my baby when you believed that she might be Sergei's offspring, impressed the heck out of me, Harmon Rabb junior. I was truly impressed, although – at the time – the mission *had* to come first."

He looked up at her, suddenly realising that this might not be a business call after all.

"OK Loren, before we go any further, would you please tell me how it was that we had a funeral service for you and I was almost arrested for your murder – until some very-timely exculpatory evidence become available….."

He stuttered to a halt, looking keenly into Loren's eyes; behind her spectacles, she was still smiling- and smiling both warmly and broadly.

Across a court-room, this would have been the point at which he realised that the opposing attorney knew something that he didn't!

"Oh crap, this was a CIA op! You bastards nearly hung me out to dry for your death, but you weren't dead, but we found a body, so how….?"

Once more, super-lawyer Harmon Rabb staggered to a halt, bereft of answers and with a massive logic-bomb sitting a yard away from him, dressed smartly and with her legs crossed in a demure pose, heels accentuating her rather-fine legs beneath the skirt of her suit.

"OK Harm, this has now been cleared so that I can tell you. Do you want to grab a coffee, because this may take some time?"

"No thanks Loren, just pitch right on in." After two years, Harm just wanted to get to the truth. His mother would, of course, have chided him for his petulance!

"Well, when I left you that night after Benzingers:" she paused. "I mean, when I finally shook you off in the parking lot!" she added pointedly, "my blood-pressure was spiking and I felt like crap. I alerted my handler and we did a quick uniform swap with my stand-in. She then went on to the meeting with Lindsey at the bridge…"

She paused once more, as her eyes filled with tears; "…and to her death. Oh God, Harm, even two years on I still think that it could have been me in that ice!"

Harm moved from his chair, producing a clean handkerchief from his pocket and – despite the protests from his spine – knelt in front of her, proffering the handkerchief.

"Thanks Harm." She took it gratefully and dabbed at her eyes before continuing, holding on to Harm's hand with her free hand.

"The surveillance team were watching from the van in the parking lot; she parked my car and walked up to him. The deal was to collect a $5k payment from him 'for the baby' – we knew he had funds from the significant income that he had built up by selling secrets from SecNav's office."

She paused, recalling the horrific events of that winter night. "No-one was prepared for what he did next. As she walked up to him, he simply grabbed her by the shoulders, smashed her head on the railings and let her crash to the ground. He looked down at her and, before the first team member was out of the surveillance van, he had grabbed her, lifted her up and thrown her over the railings."

Harm was astonished. "But if your team were there, how come no-one was able to track her?"

"Harm, get real! Once you go into a raging river you are f**"

She paused, recasting her chosen words.

"We all wore personal locator beacons when we were on missions. Mine was in my right heel, but my stand-in took one shoe-size larger and her shoes were loose that night. She had just been fitted with the uniform in a rush and not everything was perfect - plus she was pregnant like me. The shoe came off on first contact with the water; the guys found the shoe the next morning through the PLB, but as you now know, her body didn't surface until April after the spring thaw."

She shrugged; "Oddly enough, she was found the day after I had given birth to Penelope, whose second name I chose as a tribute to Meghan."

"So that was her name – Meghan?"

"Yes; in fact you had met her some years ago during one of our stings to protect the Romanian princess back in '97. Meghan had described you as 'deeply dishy' and I could see why when I was posted to JAG HQ in '99. Although everyone could see that you and Mac had an unrequited connection back in those days."

Harm failed to make – or ignored – the connection; he ploughed on regardless.

"So obviously you – your team - knew that Lindsey was a cold-blooded killer by this stage but – hey, hold up – the CIA cannot operate on internal US soil."

Loren looked slightly sheepish. "Yes – technically – but we were 'consulting' to an FBI counter-espionage-stroke-terrorist team and the lines had become sufficiently blurred on the op, by the end of '02, for us to have a little bit of leeway when it came to operational RoEs."

She bristled in her chair, sitting up ram-rod straight to protect her reputation. "Hey, Harm, I *AM* a lawyer – and a darn good one despite the strokes that 'Lt Loren Singer' had to pull when she was under cover here as '_the ambitious JAG from hell_', tormenting her colleagues."

"Well, actually, you *did* do some good – I understand that Lt Maat and her daughter Katelyn are still safe and happy whilst the father rots in prison with his hot temper getting him into more trouble every year."

She smiled triumphantly. "Yes, that was a case which I was very pleased to get involved with; we actually hid the then-Lt Maat at Meghan's for a while before she was posted to another division."

"What, you mean…?"

"Yes Harm, the woman you knew as 'Isabele Maat' was CIA as well; the father was actually a sleeper and we *HAD* to take him down before he could follow up on 9/11 – remember the Maat case was only at the end of October of '01, so he was very dangerous. As I recall, he picked on the wrong lawyer when he struck out in the bull-pen!"

Harm smiled, as the memories came flooding back.

"Oh yes, Mac took him down almost single-handed in the bull-pen when he acted up rough about a 'blonde female lawyer' who had spirited his daughter away." Harm paused; "but if you knew that, the CIA must be using JAG as some kind of 'happy hunting ground' – surely?"

"Actually no Harm, the postings are actually very few and far between and only sanctioned at the highest level – the General (and before him, the Admiral) would automatically be read in. The reason is not just as a courtesy but to ensure that the JAG himself can provide 'plausible deniability' if things go sideways." She chuckled to herself; "Not that they tend to, unless Mister C. Webb has his fingerprints on the mis-planning activities."

"So how is old Clay?" Harm asked.

Well, he is actually OK at present. I must say, your Mac helped to straighten him out (and dry him out) after Paraguay and I reckon that they were good for each other while they were together." She fell silent, awaiting what she knew would be the near-inevitable question from Harm.

True to type, it wasn't long in coming.

"So, Mac…."

"Yes Harm, Mac."

She waited.

"OK; do I need to beg?"

Loren smiled at the question. "No Harm, but you need to 'man up' and ask me politely."

She smiled to soften the blow, as he formed the words; she caressed the backs of his hands and smiled encouragingly. "Come on Harm, you can do this…"

"OK, how are they?"

"They are still together, but if she – as is rumoured – takes the posting to San Diego RLSO, they will inevitably see less of one another."

She looked closely at him. "Harm, surely, after all that happened..?"

He raised his hand.

"Oh no, Loren, it is over; I understood what 'never' meant when she said it and I took that to heart on the flight back north after the recovery. She kissed Clayton and she stayed with him; that was enough for me, especially with the 'never' to back it up. No, she has asked for my help – and received my help - for the last time."

He sighed. "Mac is now – and forever – just a much-cherished friend. Nothing more – ever."

He slumped back in his chair. "So here I am, post-Mac and after eight years of carrying a torch."

"SO, does this mean that we need to put you back on the 'Eligible List', for those DC women looking for a hunk?" Loren's tone of voice was, truthfully, only *very* slightly mocking; after all, this man had been almost-nauseatingly keen to help her two years earlier, when he had believed (obviously mistakenly) that she might be carrying his niece.

"Hmm, that could be an idea; let's face it, I'm…"

He got no further, as Loren interrupted.

"Almost 42, unmarried, no children, no significant other, a chest full of well-deserved medals, but no-one to warm your bed, hug and kiss you senseless and produce the next generation of little Rabbs."

"Yeah, that just about sums it up, Loren. Hey, why are you smiling?"

"Well Harm, I have a proposition for you. I know that women are supposed to propose only in Leap Years, but I cannot wait for 2008."

He looked at her, amazed. After two years of silence, she had just walked back into his life, announced her daughter and was proposing – what? More than a "marriage of convenience", that was blindingly obvious.

It was just such a typically "Singer-ish" thing for her to do – reversing the flow of his "Catherine Gale" proposal and stepping up for what she believed in.

He actually quite liked the idea, but then all his doubts, insecurities and uncertainties came crowding back in on him.

"OK Loren – first, a couple of questions; I want to know the real Loren – name, number, family background, history, future – the whole nine yards please."

"With pleasure Harm. OK, where to start?"

Her eyes once more sought his, locking onto them as she began the story.

"OK, born in Cincinatti Ohio, July 25th 1971, along with my twin sister. Standard upbringing, emphasising the similarities and differences between twins. She was into track and field, I rode horses and concentrated on target rifle shooting (an asset to the Agency, you will acknowledge)."

He nodded, not wishing to interrupt her flow.

"Graduated High School, off to Duke (where I met Catherine Gale-as-was); we were recruited together and I've been CIA since I graduated, as was my twin. I officially retired last year (my cover was blown – quite spectacularly – don't ask!) and I have been working, as an attorney, for Dalton Lowne's old firm in DC. After the Lt Maat case, you may be surprised to know that I specialised in Family law."

"Wow, that's what I call a condensed history. What about your sister?"

"She said you were a bit slow on the uptake when she met you in February of 1997 when the Agency was protecting the King of Romania."

"That's the second mention of Romania. What was her name?"

"Meghan".

She could see the lightbulb flash on – and stay on – in Harm's mind.

"Hang on – *that* Meghan?"

"Y-e-e-e-s."

"_My God, she thought, it's like pulling teeth! And this guy flew supersonic aircraft!_."

"But she was shot…"

"Yes, the CIA officer who 'shot' her three times using blanks was our best marksman– and you nearly bitched it all up by trying to climb up the drapes! Meghan said afterwards that, when she came face-to-face with you, she nearly put a round into you in case you called out her name and alerted the real bad guys on the King's staff."

"But her name was…"

"Meghan Loren O'Hara – she was my twin".

"Was?"

"Yes, Harm, she went into the Potomac river that night two years ago." Her face cracked and the tears flowed freely. "That callous, murdering bastard Teddy Lindsey murdered my pregnant twin sister Meghan!"

"Oh wow!" Suddenly everything fell into place for Harm. Instinctively, he closed in for a hug and she responded.

They hugged for a number of minutes; eventually Loren's breathing came back to normal and the wetness on Harm's neck began to recede. However, he would stay there, in that position, for ever if it helped the distraught, blonde woman in his arms. His spine was also beginning to protest. She used his handkerchief once more to dab her tears, then sighed. He finally knew her story.

"Oh God, Loren, how terrible."

"So, now it makes sense to you, Harm?"

"Oh yes indeed; so tell me, finally, oh lady of mystery; what is your real name?"

"It's probably easier for you to guess, Harm; my parents played a wicked joke on my sister and myself at the time of our christening. My mom was a big fan of the Nancy Drew mysteries."

Harm thought for a good minute before shaking his head.

"Nope, not getting it - OK I give up; what's your real name, lady-formerly-known-as-Loren-Singer please?"

"Really, you're not going to try?"

"Nope; look Loren, I want to take you out, then take you back to one of our homes and make wild and passionate love to you based upon what you've been hinting for a while."

She swallowed, eyes wide open, then smiled and took his hand. "It had better be your loft, Harm, because Penelope is back home in mine; Cathy Marston is on baby-sitting duties."

Suddenly, he could feel his trousers getting tight and his neck collar closing around his neck; this woman was hitting all of his hot buttons – and he didn't mind at all. He waited expectantly for her response.

**"****My real name is Loren Nancy O'Hara; and I am very pleased to meet you, Harmon David Rabb jr".**

**** END of "Loren Singer - a necessary lie" - Ch 02 – "Out of the shadows"**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Next Chapter 03 . - ? Depends on reactions/reviews.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Getting to know you

**Loren Singer - a necessary lie, Chapter 3 – "Getting to know you".**

**A/N: AU. **This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. **Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.**

**A/N: AU: **"_they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself_". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N. Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome; I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful - and welcomed.

**A/N: **Allusion to canon: "Touchdown" **(S09Ep05 – 23****rd**** October 2003).**

**A/N: **Publication date: 27-Aug-2019.

**Characters from FFNET - L Singer: D Mallard; C Webb; H Rabb jr**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Chapter 03: "Getting to know you"**

**Tuesday 15th February 2005, 06:07hrs EST**

**Home of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**(sort out the address from canon)**

"Wow, that's the best Valentine's Day present I have ever had!"

She rolled onto his chest, her blonde hair hanging over her eyes; she tried – and failed – to blow the fringe out of the way, before gently resting her breasts on Harm's chest.

"Wow: Commander Rabb, that was – spectacular! Thank you so much."

Harm was still gathering his breath after the early-morning salute. He simply nodded in enthusiastic agreement. Eventually words formed and Loren was pleased to hear his first coherent words.

"Jesus Loren, how did you hide that body under your uniform?"

She smiled enigmatically – a very "Singer" expression, but with her lips curling into another genuine smile. He was rapidly falling for this woman and – for once in his life – he didn't care.

They laughed together as he staggered to the kitchen to put the coffee percolator on.

She stretched out across his bed, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror which leaned up against the wall – one of Harm's unfinished building tasks since he had moved into the apartment back in…..

"Harm, what year did you move in here?"

"Err, summer of '96. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I am admiring my reflection and I don't look like a fallen woman, despite the mirror being on the floor."

He returned from the galley, where the percolator was hard at work.

"Never fallen; I think that you might just have saved us both."

"Hmm – another dry spell for you, Harm?"

"Yes. I came close with Megan Ransford out in China Lake, but it just didn't seem right, so soon after her father had been vapourised by an errant remote control F-14."

"God Harm, you are such a gentleman. Well, all I can say is that Megan Ransford has missed out on the best lay she never had." She rolled over onto her back, stretching out a leg and fondling him with her toe. His body responded instantly.

"Harm?"

"Yes Loren?"

"Screw the coffee for a while."

"Oh yes, ma'am!"

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Tuesday 15th February 2005, 07:13hrs EST**

**Home of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**(sort out the address from canon)**

She watched him shave as she sipped her first coffee of the day. For some inexplicable reason, he shaved after he had showered. Loren was perplexed; all her previous lovers had shaved before showering; maybe this was all part of the enigma that was Harmon Rabb. She shrugged, as another question intruded.

"Harm, can you get your car out around mine for work?"

He looked out of the window to the parking area. Her blue Miata was still parked where she had abandoned it, just behind where he had abandoned *his* car in their eagerness to get into the loft and horizontal the night before.

"Yes Loren, I am fine. SO, what is your agenda for today?"

"Well, if it is alright with my new man, I need to get back to JAG HQ to close out with the General. You may have noticed that, yesterday, I had an expedited departure from the building!"

He smiled, slightly sheepishly.

"OK, I'll alert the Marine guards that you will be dropping by. What sort of time are you thinking of?"

"Hmm, say about 1030hrs unless you have a better idea, Harm. I've just spoken to Cathy Marston and she has no problems in bringing Penelope in with her to work; we've swapped kids constantly so they are accustomed to the changing environments. I'll drive out and pick Penny up from the Langley crèche later in the day."

Suddenly, she became serious. "Harm, what would you like to do this evening?"

Unfortunately, she posed this question with her back to him - unaware that he had just taken a mouthful of coffee! His resulting projectile cough managed to get the coffee into the sink, with no "splatter-back" on his uniform. She turned quickly at the sound of him coughing, concerned.

He eyed her suspiciously, as she merely responded with an "_innocent, who–me?_" expression.

"Hmm, now _there_ is a challenge. What are your plans for me to meet Penelope? Is it too soon?"

"Well, she has known about her Uncle Harm and her Uncle Sergei for some time, so you won't be a complete surprise."

"OK, how about you swing by JAG HQ for lunch – there are a few people I would like to shake up." He grinned mischievously.

"Harmon Rabb, you are a devil. Shame on you." She finished the statement laughing, pulling the dressing gown around her.

"OK, I'll bring Penelope and we shall aim for 1155hrs at main reception." She smiled; "Then we shall see what happens."

She paused, suddenly serious: this was *his* reputation which was about to be affected around JAG.

"Harm, are you sure about going public on this?"

"What, going public with a lovely woman whom I – in all probability – treated badly in late '02 and didn't believe, who trusts me with her body and has made me very happy?"

He hugged her and kissed her deeply.

"Loren, I accepted your proposition last night. For now, I definitely *want* to go public."

She nodded. "Then so do I; go on Sailor, get yourself to work. Oh, where's the spare key? I shall sort out a copy of my apartment key for you during the day."

He freed a key off his key ring, handing it to her. "Use this, as it's the master. You'll get a better copy for yourself. Oh, would you get two please? I probably need a spare anyway."

She popped him a salute with her two forefingers. "Aye-aye, skipper."

Laughing, he closed the door and headed off to Falls Church.

Loren strolled around the apartment as she completed her coffee before showering.

The sudden practicalities of stopping over, unscheduled, at a man's home hit her. The washing machine had a quick "_Wash 'n' dry_" setting – which would take care of her stockings, panties, bra and blouse, enough to help her to feel fresh for her "drive of shame" back home to her little apartment.

Laundry switched on, she poured herself another coffee and lay back on the bed, re-visiting the energetic activities of the night before.

Yes, this lovely man could very well be "_the one_."

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Tuesday 15th February 2005, 11:54hrs EST**

**Office of Cdr Harmon Rabb, jr, USN JAGC **

**JAG HQ Falls Church VA**

"Commander Rabb, your guests have arrived at the VCP."

"OK sergeant; kindly escort them to the front door and I shall come down to greet them and escort them inbound."

He checked his appearance in the mirror, then headed out to the elevator.

Signing in Loren and Penelope, he bent down to shake the near-two-year-old's hand. She, suddenly shy, hid behind her mom's skirt. On the way back via her home, Loren had swapped into a pastel-blue two-piece.

He picked up Penelope in his arms, careful to ensure that she could always see her mom. The little girl giggled in delight as she looked down on Mom and this new man, whom Mom had always spoken about for as long as Penelope had been sentient.

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Tuesday 15th February 2005, 11:59hrs EST**

**Bull-pen, JAG HQ Falls Church VA**

Harm gulped as he took her hand. The last time he had seen her, early in January of 2003, their exchange of words had been harsh and unfeeling: he obsessed about the parentage of her baby, she apparently dis-interested in his obsession and happy to sip a beer in front of him before storming out and heading for the car park.

He looked into the eyes of the little girl, then looked across to Loren.

Sensing his question, she filled in the blanks.

"She was born on 17th April 2003, so she is 22 months and still gorgeous."

"So the father was CIA – I guess?"

She winced at his directness.

"No Harm, he was the target of my op – and I was quite happy to build a legend and to be his mistress as we invaded his organisation and ultimately dismantled every single tendril of his operation inside the USA. As a bonus, I got a really beautiful child as my daughter. We knew that you were going nowhere with Mackenzie and…."

He interrupted her. "Excuse me?"

She shrugged. "Well, you know that the CIA keeps track of its officers and former officers. Hell, I was on duty in in OpCenFour during your carrier landing in Oct 2003."

She smiled wistfully: "Jeez, Alan Blaisdell was so pissed when he realised that the darn TV crew was there. Apparently there is still a dent in the comms console on the bird where he kicked out in anger."

"So, as a genuine Bar-qualified lawyer, I am working for Lowell, Hanson & Lowndes as their deputy head of family law…."

"So what brought you to Falls Church and your old haunt?"

She linked her arm through Harm's as they walked slowly down the corridor.

"You, my darling, to be honest."

She sighed before continuing.

"Well, there were two goals. Firstly, I needed to formally let the Admiral know that he could stand down from the pretence of having me on his books. He had loyally kept the secret since I shipped in here back in '99 and I needed to officially 'resign my commission' to my last CO of record – namely the Admiral previously, now the General."

She looked up into his eyes again. "And then there was a personal goal. I wanted to re-connect with a lovely, sensitive, supportive Flyboy lawyer who caught my eye when I was here, but who was always distracted by a certain Marine Colonel."

He was puzzled by one aspect. "So, CIA operations on US soil – surely that caused (and causes) legal problems?"

"Well, that is where the Attorney General and some interesting people with alphabet soup in their job titles became involved, to establish the mission parameters; it took some time at the inception (or should I say "the conception"). I just had to lie back and think of Old Glory."

"Lie back and….." suddenly Harm realised what "Loren" was saying and he blushed crimson.

She giggled and reassured him. "Harm, do not fret; I knew what I was getting into. I'm a big girl and, whilst the president can order a soldier to kill, he cannot order a woman to get pregnant without her consent. The details of the mission fitted my life-plans very neatly at the time, and Penelope is a lovely young girl, who I am so pleased that you have now met. I was also pleased when Sergei met Galina. He seems to be very happy now and – obviously – he was briefed on the secret and he has kept my secret until now."

Arm-in-arm, they strolled along the corridor back towards the bull-pen and Harm's office. Harm was carrying Penelope shoulder-high.

It had to happen! Harriet Simms-Roberts came bustling down the corridor, opened her mouth to speak to Harm, recognised his companion, looked at the lovely blonde two-year-old, squeaked in surprise and dropped the (fortunately only two) folders which she had been carrying!

Dialogue…. Loren smiled as she knelt down to help Harriett restore order to the papers.

"Yes, Harriett, it is me! I've broken cover finally and I am now – as of 45 minutes ago – out of the Navy. I'd be very happy to properly introduce you to my daughter Penelope some time."

The two blondes continued walking, down to the canteen where Loren remembered sitting as she read the small ads, just before the drama of the night of her swim. She looked around the canteen, as though seeing it for the first time.

"Is this bringing back unpleasant memories?" Harm prompted her.

"Yes and no – more like turning back a couple of pages and making sure that the book is now firmly closed."

"And is it?"

She looked up at him, with a firm expression of determination on her face.

"Oh absolutely – Loren Singer was an act, a cover which was vital as we wheedled our way in under the defences of the bad guy that I was assigned to reel in. He was reeled in and neutralised."

She smiled, looking down at her suit jacket. "And I am just *so* pleased not to be wearing that darn uniform. It never quite felt right."

She shrugged: "maybe because I knew it wasn't genuine, deep down."

"Well Loren, you have chosen a lovely colour to 'come out' in today – distinctive for your visit…"

Harm paused, his finger outstretched. "So, you just said that Loren was an act. Thank you, darling, for entrusting me with your real name."

"Oh certainly, that was my pleasure Harm. It was one of the reasons for looking you up as I move more openly back into civilian life and come to meet up with a man who impressed the hell out of me when I was undercover and couldn't express my attraction to him. A man who – if he's interested – I would like to get to know a whole lot better for a whole lot longer."

Harm's eyes widened as he digested the meaning of what "Loren" had just said. Second time around, away from the restrictions of JAG and CIA duty, she was leaving no doubt as to what (or who) her target was. He smiled and opened his arms a little wider.

"So, last night was just the warm-up?"

She smiled warmly and nodded. "Oh yes, Harm, my plan is 'forever and a day' – if you'll have me."

Once more, she stepped up closer to him, as Penelope ran her hand through his hair.

Harm felt an immense sensation of homecoming. This simply felt right.

Despite the past, despite the history, here was the ready-made family which he craved, along with a woman who was seemingly truly-willing to work with him to create the son whom he truly desired.

She took his hands in hers and looked up into his eyes. He now knew that Loren O'Hara embodied all that he wanted and everything that he needed.

He didn't begrudge the wasted years with Sarah Mackenzie, because eventually it had brought him here, to this place and this time and the love and companionship of this woman. When he committed, Harmon Rabb truly committed totally. This was the time and this was the woman.

**Harmon Rabb jr was truly home - and he knew it.**

**After waving farewell to Loren and Penelope, he returned to his office, closed the door and dialled a number from long-held memory.**

**"Burnett residence."**

**"Hey Mom, it's time to bring out the Rabb family ring."**

**** END of "Loren Singer - a necessary lie" Ch 03 – "Getting to know you"**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

***ENDS: Thank you for reading. Thanks for helping me to clear my writer's block.**

**Mike, England, 27-08-2019**


	4. Chapter 4 - Epilogue - happy family Rabb

**Loren Singer - a necessary lie, Chapter 4 – "Epilogue - Happy Rabb family".**

**A/N: AU. **This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. **Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.**

**A/N: AU: **"_they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself_". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N. Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome; I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful - and welcomed.

**A/N: **Allusion to canon: * none *

**A/N: **Publication date: 28-Aug-2019.

**Characters from FFNET - L Singer: D Mallard; C Webb; H Rabb jr**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

**Chapter 04: "Epilogue – a happy family Rabb"**

**Saturday 21st July 2007, 16:59hrs PT**

**Church of the seas, La Jolla, California 92037-USA**

"_Relax Harm, she's here. I knew she wouldn't be late, because Loren's been building to this day – and this date – for years; probably more so since she 'de-cloaked' and surfaced again, meeting you again post-CIA_."

Frank was working hard to reassure his stepson. Nevertheless, Harm was still a bag of nerves. Despite Loren O'Hara wearing the Rabb family engagement ring since 17th February 2005, Harm was always concerned that his dream would burst – or that he would wake up one day.

There was, in truth, no likelihood at all of that event befalling the happy couple – especially following the birth of their son David on Christmas Eve 2005 – the 36th anniversary of his grandfather's loss over Vietnam.

Loren had worked hard in the gym throughout 2006 and into 2007. Her wedding dress design accentuated all her curves and her athletic core. Harm felt truly blessed as she walked in from the sunlight into the cool interior of the church.

On the register table, the adoption paperwork and name-change paperwork for Miss Penelope Meghan O'Hara-Rabb were ready for signature and sealing.

After the service, as the guard of honour raised their sword, blades to the wind, the happy couple knew that the separate lives of the time before, when they lived – and loved - and adventured separately, were at an end.

Harm and Loren O'Hara-Rabb were united, until death, in a marriage of equals and into a family of love.

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

They would grow old together, supporting and comforting each other, until Vice-Admiral Harmon O'Hara-Rabb took charge of the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis MD in the final three years of his career.

By his side, matching him step-for-step through life, his wife Loren supported him, comforted him and also carved out her own successful career as a Family Law specialist and eventual partner in the Lowndes O'Hara legal firm.

Periodically, they would visit Meghan's grave, resting forever alongside her parents in the leafy cemetery nestling in the quiet Ohio valley.

Eventually. Loren would forgive herself for precipitating the tragedy of Meghan's early death. As Harm repeatedly pointed out to her, the fault – and guilt – lay entirely with Teddy Lindsey.

Both Harm and Loren were truly proud when midshipman Penelope Meghan O'Hara-Rabb was admitted to the Academy as a middy. Eventually she would become an accomplished F-35 pilot and would fly in the squadron led by XO Mathilda Grace Johnson, as US CVH power was projected across the world. She would serve with distinction in the Second South China Sea Confrontation in the fall of 2035.

Their son David, perversely for a Rabb man but mindful of his right to carve his own way in the world, joined American Airlines as a pilot. He would eventually retire as senior training captain many decades beyond the date of this story. He would – typically – marry a member of the cabin crew and their offspring would regularly join Mattie's daughter in raising the roof at the Falls Church home where the O'Hara-Rabb family had put down roots.

Penelope would marry, but would never produce children as she followed a career path enriched by her nephews and nieces.

They were content.

And life was good.

**** END of "Loren Singer - a necessary lie" Ch 04 – "Epilogue - Happy Rabb family"**

**LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL-LSANL**

***ENDS: Thank you for reading. Thanks for helping me to clear my writer's block.**

**Mike, England, 28-08-2019 **


End file.
